


Distance makes the mind grow dark

by resonatingkitty



Series: Writing Prompts or Short Fics [3]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Hallucinations, Insomnia, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:20:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7227754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonatingkitty/pseuds/resonatingkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How long has it been since Dean’s had a good night’s sleep? The night before Bray got hurt perhaps? Dean can’t remember. He does know that he misses Bray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distance makes the mind grow dark

He’s not sure really what day it is or where he’s at for that matter, knows it’s time for Raw sure but as far at the date and the place? Dean’s no sure of either. Time and settings stopped mattering to him a while ago. It didn’t matter, none of it did.

They were all just a blur anyway. Memory-less for the most part. He gets bits and pieces in slide shows every now and then, like when he’d teamed with Sami that one time on Smackdown and his feud with Jericho and even riding with Sami to get from show to show, but none of it sticks around for too long, is gone in a a blink of the eye.

He’s not even sure how he got back to his hotel room tonight. Doesn’t know whether he walked or had a ride. Doesn’t matter. He’s here, alone. The past Raw already a distant memory, already forgotten.

Without Bray around things have become hectic. Dean would never admit out loud, not even under torture, how much the brunet’s presence or lack there of effected him. He’s never admit that the world seemed fine when Bray was lying next to him, one arm thrown around him midsection and face buried in the junction against his neck and shoulder. He’s never admit that the smooth sound of Bray’s voice chased all his anxieties and worries away and left him feeling free for once. He would never admit that this past year, Bray has grown to mean a lot to him, a lot more than anyone could or would imagine, not even himself.

It been what feels like months, has actually been two months and some days, since Bray had suffered an injury. It’s been that long since Bray and Dean had been in touch. Erick and Braun weren’t around, were more than most likely at the Compound tending to both Bray and Luke, who’d fell to an injury a couple weeks before Bray. Bray didn’t have a phone - none of them did - so there was no way for Dean to contact him and it wasn’t like Dean could go to Louisiana and find the Compound. He didn’t know exactly which one Bray and the rest of the family were staying at - Bray had said previously that they’d moved - and he didn’t find getting lost and potentially dying in the Louisiana backwoods all that appealing. That’s what his brain would come up with in the wee hours of the morning when the rest of the world was still asleep and Dean was unable to.

His insomnia either kept him awake and when he did manage to finally pass out, disturbing dreams and nightmares of Bray never coming back would plague him and make his attempts at getting some rest fitful.

What makes it worse is that people are starting to worry. Dean’s heard everyone whispering to themselves, casting glances at him. Hell even Stephanie McMahon herself asked him if he was alright the other day. He snorts at that thought.

He fine, just as he told her. He’s absolutely fine, will be better when Bray gets his ass back.

Whenever that was.

Soon. Hopefully.

Dean scrubs a hand down his face, heaves out a sigh. He’s so fucking tired. Needs to sleep. He pushes himself up, starts stumbling toward the bathroom while starting to strip himself of his clothes. Shower and then sleep.

–

Dean finds himself in the woods, at least he thinks that’s where he’s at, isn’t really sure. There’s fog, thick layers of it, hanging heavily in the air.  
It’s humid, air thick with heat that could only be associated with the southern states.

“Darlin”

Dean whips around at the sound of Bray’s voice. He can’t see shit. “Bray?” He calls, catching movement in the corner of his eye in the edge of the mist,

“Darlin”

There’s a light shining dimly through the fog. It’s a ways off, moving parallel to where he’s standing. “Bray!” Dean calls out again, louder this time.

The light stops momentarily before changing directions, moving towards him. It gets brighter the closer it gets and as it moves closer, the fog starts to lift.

It’s a lantern, Dean recognizes with excitement. He’s even more excited when the lantern is lowered and Bray is there.

“Bray!” Dean wastes no time, practically flings himself into the other. He knows this is a dream but damn it’s the best damn thing that’s happened to him in months. Bray’s solid warmth against him is the best damn thing he’s felt in months.

It gets even better when those arms wrap themselves around him, pull him in even tighter.

“My precious little lamb” Bray sighs happily, burying his face in the junction of Dean’s neck and shoulder. A hand comes up to card through dirty blond strands of hair. “I’ve missed you darlin”

“Missed you too,” Dean’s words are muffled against the shirt Bray has on but he knows Bray heard him. He stays in the embrace for a few moments longer before reluctantly pulling away so he can see Bray’s face. Those blue eyes that he loves so much as filled with joy and admiration. “When are you coming back?” He asks, hopeful.

“Soon darlin. Very soon.” Bray answers reaching up to cup the side of Dean’s face. Dean lets him do it, relishes in the action. “She’s already singing her songs of enjoyment that we will return. It brings her great joy to see us strong again.”

Dean nods along to Bray’s words. Truth be told he is good to and had he been able to hold a tune or rhythm long enough, he too probably would’ve broken out into song.

“Please hurry,” is what he says instead. It’s a plea, begging Bray to come back and make him better, make everything better. “I need you back.”

“Soon darlin’ I need you to be strong for me until then,” Bray pulls Dean forward, mumbles the words against Dean’s lips before he’s kissing him furiously, damn near desperately.

Dean kisses back with just as much passion. He grips onto Bray tightly, doesn’t want to ever let go.

They kiss until Dean’s lungs are screaming from air and even when Bray pulls back, Dean follows those retreating lips in an attempt to reconnect them. Screw the air, he needed Bray more.

He doesn’t notice that the fog had returned, doesn’t care that’s it growing thick again until Bray speaks. “I must go now darlin’. Our time seems to be up for this night.” Dean opens his mouth to protest but stops when Bray’s lips met his once more, “I apologize for not doing this sooner darlin but I was weakened and am just now gaining my strength to be able to do it again. I apologize I cannot hold out for longer than this.” He pulls away from Dean to retrieve the lantern that he’d sat on the ground. It was glowing again, a soft dim light this time and not the bright light that it was shedding before. “You will awake once the spell is broken,” Bray informs, starting to move away int he direction that he came from. He pauses to look over his shoulder at Dean, “I want you to go back to sleep. You will rest tonight, she is watching over you. I love you darlin’ and remember, soon.”

“Love you too.”

Dean bolts upright, gasping. The room is still pitch black. Dean scrambles for his phone, finds the device and checks the time. 1:30am. Still late considering he got in around midnight.

He looks around the room, eyes not yet adjusted to the darkness. It feels different though, the atmosphere itself. It feels less heavy that it did when he went to bed. He feels soothed, relaxed, can feel the exhaustion starting to creep up on him again now that his initial shock is wearing off.

Bray’s words ring in his head _“I want you to go back to sleep."_

Sleep. Yeah.

Dean sinks back down, pulls the covers up and over his head like he likes them. He finds the transition into sleep easier this time, starts dozing off immediately. He’s almost out when he feels the ghostly fingers thread through his hair and hears her voice speak soothingly to him

 _“Sleep now my dearest little lamb, all will be better soon. He is coming back for you.”_

Her words are followed by Bray’s own before Dean is lost to the unconsciousness of a sleep that will be the best that he’s gotten in two months.

_“Soon little lamb. Soon.”_


End file.
